


that’s not how you spell doughnuts

by Siriusstuff



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ficlet, M/M, No Sex, References to Knotting, Sex Toys, mild sexual teasing, no actual knotting, stiles and derek are boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 03:31:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4164057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siriusstuff/pseuds/Siriusstuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles gets something in the mail and Derek wants to know what it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	that’s not how you spell doughnuts

“Stiles!” the Sheriff called from the foot of the steps.

Stiles came charging out of his room to look down at his dad.

“Package came for you.”

Stiles heart began pounding, because his father was holding a plain-wrapped box in his hand— _and looking at the return address label_.

Stiles charged down the steps, a little too late.

“Why are you ordering doughnuts through the mail?” the Sheriff asked, somewhere between casually and suspiciously.

Resisting his urge to yank the package from his dad’s grip, Stiles merely received it from him, looked at the label confirming point of origin, gulped, clutched the package to his chest and answered, “Oh, they’re not—doughnuts. They’re… dog biscuits. Special, organic—dog biscuits—”

The Sheriff’s eyebrows did the thing indicating Stile’s needed to step up his deceit game. “Whose—?”

“Derek’s sister. Laura. Got a dog. Thought I’d get it a treat. These—special, organic… dog biscuits. I heard about.”

The Sheriff’s interrogation skills had cracked many a suspect—skills he’d honed during seventeen years of life with Stiles.

“A box of Milk Bones wouldn’t do?”

“Oh no, Dad! These are available special order only.” Stiles felt on a good roll now. “Laura will be pleased. And I’ll—ya know—making his sister happy, be good with the boo.” He’d been slowly backing up the stairs.

With those last words Stiles had successfully led the Sheriff into don’t-want-to-know territory. The man closed his eyes, blew a hard exhale through his nose. “As long as it’s not _too_ good,” he warned. “I’m headed to the station. Have a good night, son.”

“Good night, Dad! Love you, Dad!” Stiles shouted as he reached the landing and returned to his room—

Where the unexpected presence of Derek Hale made him almost screech.

“ _Geez—sus_ , man!” he cried. “Wha—?”

Unfortunately he’d dropped the package, now at Derek’s feet.

Derek picked up the box. Stiles tried tugging it from him but he wouldn’t relinquish it.

“Why’s your heart pounding?” Derek asked.

“Maybe because you made it _stop_ with your preferred mode of entering my home?”

“I heard it beating like this soon as your dad started talking to you.”

“ _How long have you been up here_?”

“Right after you left the room.—Thought you’d be glad to see me.” Derek smiled like a boyfriend would but looked at the package, while Stiles kept trying to pull it into his sole possession, without success.

“Yeah, real glad.—Let _go_!”

Stiles would have had better luck uprooting a tree with his bare hands.

“Your dad thought this said ‘ _doughnuts_ ’?” Derek asked, as if a normal conversation were in progress and not a one-sided futile tug-of-war.

“You heard—?” But of course Derek had heard. Then Stiles just stopped, let his head droop. “Yes, Derek. Yes, he did.”

“That’s not how you spell doughnuts.”

“No, it isn’t, Derek.” No need to start blushing yet, because Derek still didn’t know what the package contained.

“It smells terrible, whatever it is.—Smells industrial, like—plastic?”

Stiles said nothing.

Derek stepped closer, not at all in a threatening way but quite the opposite. He lowered his hand with the package but if Stiles thought that was a chance to get it back he was _wrong_.

“Stiles,” Derek said in an intimate tone. “It says it’s from a company called ‘Dognots.’—What did you buy?”

Silence.

“Stiles.” With his free hand Derek gently stroked Stiles’s cheek. “What is it?”

“You can’t connive me,” Stiles asserted, quietly.

Derek’s lips were near enough Stiles’s face that speaking would cause contact.

“Yes, I can,” Derek whispered.

He kissed Stiles on the corner of his mouth, moving fully onto Stiles’s lips with further kisses.

Stiles groaned in frustration.

He put both hands either side of Derek’s head, pressed a hard kiss against his lips. Derek countered, both his hands taking hold of Stiles’s head, kissing him open mouthed, teasing his tongue into Stiles’s mouth. It was instantly a heavy make-out kiss.

Stiles’s resolve collapsed like a sand castle in high tide. Still, he calculated he might be able to turn the situation to his advantage. He knew he had a possessive boyfriend, for all that Derek tried to hide or deny it.

Stiles huffed gutturally as they parted. “Open it,” he sighed, apparently resigned.

Derek’s pinky claw sliced through the packing tape at one end of the box. He dumped a Kraft paper wrapped item in Stiles’s hands. Inside the paper was a longish red object in a clear envelope. Stiles ripped open the envelope and held up what Derek had already smelled, a plastic dildo with an approximation of a canine _bulbus_ _glandis_ at one end.

“Happy now?” Stiles asked.

Happy? No.

“Why?” Derek asked, attempting to betray nothing he felt.

“You say no fucking till I’m of legal age, so… I can jerk myself off to exhaustion with this up my ass,” Stiles declared, with a determined glare, hoping the picture he painted sank in deep and scorched Derek’s mind’s eye.

But Derek parried, asking, “A company called ‘Dognots’ sells knotted dildoes?—Not very discreet.”

“Truth in advertising,” Stiles fired back.

“It’s kind of a lot to start with, isn’t it?”

“’Start with’?” Stiles laughed. “Sweetums, I have a whole _collection_. A whole little _pack_ of _substitute Dereks_.”

Derek was not going to be jealous of some uniquely shaped plastic sex toys, _nope_. He had sworn to the Sheriff he’d respect the man’s edict _and_ the legal age of consent. He was tempted—how could he not be!—every time Stiles got handsy and their necking sessions got heated. But he’d hardly let Stiles grope him even through his pants. He was only human after all—human with a wolf inside him, eager to claim its mate. Hard as it was— _really hard_ —Derek maintained control, making it up to Stiles with dates and other kinds of fun and entertainment that wouldn’t earn Derek a protective father’s wrath or opportunity for target practice.

But if his little shit sweetheart thought he could get away with firing up either Derek’s jealousy or lust, he had another thing coming.

“’Substitute Dereks’?” Derek laughed back. “Can I have a look?” He held the dildo between both his hands. It appeared about seven inches in length, knot included. “Hmmmh. This is much too short if you’re naming it after _me_.”

Stiles’s eyes grew wide, maybe even wild.

Then Derek made a circle of his thumb and forefinger, poking the dildo through the open space easily. “Also too, umm— _slim_?”

Stiles’s head, neck, upper body appeared afflicted with tremors. If he’d been a cartoon character steam would’ve been shooting from his ears.

“ _Poor_ substitute if you ask me,” Derek concluded, disdainfully handing back the dildo to Stiles.

“ _You_!” Stiles bellowed, “ _Suck_!” He pitched the dildo aside and threw himself at Derek, pounding his fists on Derek’s chest.

Taking hold of Stiles’s torso, trying to hold him off but letting the ineffectual blows still land, through his laughter Derek replied, “Not yet, but _one_ day!”

With Stiles flailing Derek moved them to the bed and fell on it, letting Stiles fall atop him. Stiles’s blows had turned to kisses, furious kisses all over Derek’s face.

“You’re so mean. You’re so horrible, _horrible_. You’re such a tease, such a fucking tease,” he said as his kisses fell.

He started grinding against Derek but Derek squeezed Stiles’s sides, which were ticklish, and stopped _that_ in its tracks.

“Be good,” Derek told him.

“Oh, I’ll be _good_ , alright.”

“Shhh!” Derek had to divert. “Let’s go out, go somewhere. Did you have dinner yet?”

Stiles lay still, still on top of Derek, letting his breathing return to normal. “No,” he said, accepting defeat, for now.

“Wanna go eat?” Derek asked.

“ _Suuure_ ,” Stiles drawled. “I feel like _doughnuts_.”


End file.
